As we zoom out from this story and behold the canonical trajectory of types and shadows, we can say that Moses typifies Christ, the one who would ascend the mountain and lift his hands to a cross to accomplish victory. Though wearied and weakened physically, the Lord Jesus prevailed because he acted with divine authority.

I’ve argued previously that the New Testament does not identify all Old Testament types. I’ve illustrated this point by discussing the famous example of Rahab’s cord and whether that cord has anything to do with the cross.
In this post I want to consider the narrative in Exodus 17:8–16, when the Israelites defeat the Amalekites as Moses raises his hands with the staff of God. How might we teach this passage in light of the person and work of Christ?
Consider the scene itself in Exodus 17:8–16. The Israelites had to fight the Amalekites. Moses told Joshua, “I will stand on the top of the hill with the staff of God in my hand” (17:9). We’ve seen this staff before. The “staff of God” was involved in the exodus plagues, the parting of the Red Sea, and—most recently in Exodus 17—in the striking of the rock from which water flowed.
So up the mountain Moses went. But then we get an intriguing description of his movements. When Moses’s hands were raised the Israelites prevailed, but the Amalekites prevailed whenever he lowered his hands (17:11). Why would the position of Moses’s hands have anything to do with winning or losing the battle below? Because Moses’s hands held the staff of God. The point was the staff, not Moses’s hands. As shown in previous stories in Exodus, the staff represented the divine authority and power of God.
As the battle unfolded below, Moses was on the mountain acting as the mediator and intercessor for the Israelites, raising the staff of God that symbolized divine power and authority.
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Fifty years later, perhaps it is time for us to revisit this document.  Are we living in times where some, on behalf of all, have determined what society should look like?  Do we see a mounting pressure to conform with what ‘they say’ is acceptable human thought and belief? Indeed, we should not be so naïve as to assume that the absence of marching military on our streets means we face no ideological threat. The pressure is growing for everyone quietly to conform.  More than that, the pressure is growing to affirm openly and celebrate what we know to be false.  

January does not just bring a new page on the calendar but a whole new calendar.  And with the new year, we tend to generate renewed commitments.  Maybe you have already determined what 2024 will mean for you.  Perhaps your mind has already pondered daily step counts, gym visits, dietary changes, or other healthy habits.  Or maybe you are thinking about Bible reading, daily prayer routines, or other spiritual goals.  May your resolutions last and bear good fruit!  But perhaps the resolution we need for 2024 is more foundational than healthy habits and more straightforward than spiritual practices.
As I write this, I am in Budapest, where I have just visited a museum of the political terror of the twentieth century.  As you can imagine, it is a sobering experience to see the vast walls of victims, the displays focused on the political prisoners, a room commemorating the persecution of the religious leaders, the torture chambers, the prison cells, and the gallows.  But perhaps the lingering memory for me will be the final room.  With red walls and hundreds of pictures, it felt like yet another presentation of victims.  But it was not.  It was a room of “victimizers” – ordinary people who were merely doing their job, simply following orders, just playing along, and thereby facilitating the evil machine.  We can remember the victims, and we must.  Yet we must also face the uncomfortable reality that most cogs in the cruel machine of death were ordinary people.
Fifty years ago, in February 1974, Alexander Solzhenitsyn was arrested in the Soviet Union and exiled to the West.  There, he was welcomed as a hero.  On the day of his arrest, he released a document entitled “Live Not by Lies.”  He knew the power of an ideology that sought to reshape society.  He also knew the power of individuals who simply refuse to lie (and the even greater power of a crowd joining together in this conviction).  He knew that the ideological system would totter and collapse when it ran up against the brick wall of reality, exemplified by many individuals refusing to play along with the evil fantasy.
Fifty years later, perhaps it is time for us to revisit this document.  Are we living in times where some, on behalf of all, have determined what society should look like?  Do we see a mounting pressure to conform with what ‘they say’ is acceptable human thought and belief? Indeed, we should not be so naïve as to assume that the absence of marching military on our streets means we face no ideological threat.
The pressure is growing for everyone quietly to conform.  More than that, the pressure is growing to affirm openly and celebrate what we know to be false.  Surely, it would be better to speak the truth now instead of growing our tendency to fit in and play it safe as the stakes mount.
Truth and Lies – Choosing not to lie was not an original idea for Solzhenitsyn.  Paul urged the Colossians not to lie to one another.  Not only had they put off their old self, but they had put on the new self to reflect their creator’s image (Colossians 3:9-10).  He told the Ephesian believers to speak the truth to one another since they were no longer defined by the lie (Ephesians 4:25).
In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus addresses the anger underneath murder, the lust underneath adultery, and the daily consistency of speech beneath more flamboyant oaths (Matthew 5:21-37).  There is plenty of Old Testament support for the expectation that God’s people should be consistent speakers of truth (Exodus 20:16; Leviticus 19:11; Proverbs 14:5).
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We must put up firewalls against evil influence; yet, we don’t shun sinners as a plague. Instead, we offer them the humble summons of the gospel. We invite them to see Christ as the doctor of salvation and to repent as sinners. Wisely, we do not sit with scoffers, but we do plead the gospel to them in order for Christ to be glorified in everything.

What shapes our character and personality? Well, one of the most significant influences is other people. Parents mold us. Sisters and brothers affect our personality. Friends pull and push us in this or that direction. Teachers inspire our ambitions and interests. And since peer pressure has such horsepower, we want our influences to be good, positive.
Basic wisdom tells us to avoid bad characters. It is foolish to expose yourself to prolonged sinful company. Sadly, we all know people who got mixed up in the wrong crowd and went south. Good kids were corrupted away from the path of truth and faith. And this is in part why we create communities, to form an arena of positive influences and to defend against wicked ideas and practices. The apostle Paul’s warning, “Do not be deceived: “Bad company ruins good morals,” is a red-flag waving.
And this is not just a Christian thing; everyone does it to some extent. It is both biblical wisdom and natural law prudence. And yet, when it comes to this common grace principle, our Lord didn’t conform. He looked the fool and not the sage. Though, as we will see, Jesus had the best reason for his exceptional practice.
Jesus calls a tax-collector named Levi, who is an Israelite employed by a pagan overlord.

He went out again beside the sea, and all the crowd was coming to him, and he was teaching them. And as he passed by, he saw Levi the son of Alphaeus sitting at the tax booth, and he said to him, “Follow me.” And he rose and followed him. And as he reclined at table in his house, many tax collectors and sinners were reclining with Jesus and his disciples, for there were many who followed him. And the scribes of the Pharisees, when they saw that he was eating with sinners and tax collectors, said to his disciples, “Why does he eat with tax collectors and sinners?” And when Jesus heard it, he said to them, “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. I came not to call the righteous, but sinners.” (Mark 2:13-17)

So, our Lord is back on the road again. After staying put in the city of Capernaum for a handful of days, Jesus must keep moving and continue to preach and bears east towards the sea of Galilee. The crowd of people are following Jesus while he is teaching them and the group comes to a check-point. This is likely a border crossing; the officer on duty is named Levi, the son of Alphaeus. The regular practice was to name your child after a distinguished ancestor. To pick Levi most likely means that this man is a Levite.
He belongs to the famous tribe of Levi. The high-priestly line of Aaron belonged to the Levitical tribe, and all the other family lines were temple servants to assist the priests. When the family business is temple service, this comes with a higher expectation of piety. Levites were supposed to be experts in the Old Testament, masters of ritual holiness, and devoted servants of the temple. With a name like Levi, we expect a Bible-thumping, goody two-shoes, but then we are told his job. He is a tax-collector. His office is a toll-booth on the road. Instead of working for God, he is employed by a pagan overlord.
Now, there were numerous types of taxes levied on Galilee by Rome. At this time, Rome didn’t collect taxes firsthand in Galilee. Instead, Rome imposed its sovereignty through a tetrarch, or governor. The governor of Galilee was Herod Antipas, and just east of Capernaum was a border with another region governed by Philip. Herod and Philip had the privilege of taxation, a healthy portion of which did go to Rome. And at the border crossing, there would be a check-point to pay a toll. This was a tariff, a custom, a denarius for the tax-officer to pass.
Levi was supposed to be a pious servant in the temple of God, but instead he signed up for a lucrative career with the enemy.
The business of taxes is key to appreciating the reputation of Levi. In order to get his tax, Herod would offer contracts on which private businessmen would bid. The highest bidder got the contract. These private “tax-farmers” most often did not belong to the local population. They were foreigners, and they would turn around and hire natives to do the actual collecting. This was the first sting against tax-collectors: Levi is a Jew working for a foreigner to confiscate taxes from his own people. Socially, this was nearly an unforgivable betrayal.
Next, there was how the tax-men got paid. They earned their salary by charging higher rates. For example, Herod may set the toll at one denarius per person. The businessman orders his collector to charge one and a half denari to get the half for himself. Then, the collector may levy the toll at three denari to keep one and a half for himself.
In such a system, there is unlimited opportunity for corruption. When you paid the 3 denari toll, you had no idea how much went to Rome and what percentage was skimmed off by greedy middlemen. Additionally, tax-collectors were often wealthy, and they hired muscle to wield violence against you to pay up.
Levi was supposed to be a pious servant in the temple of God, but instead he signed up for a lucrative career with the enemy. Rather than helping you with your holy offering, Levi was squeezing cash out of you to pay the man and to live in the mansion down the street. Instead of suffering with his fellow Jews, Levi was feasting with greedy Gentiles.
When Christ calls, the person comes.
As a tax-collector, Levi was essentially categorized as an apostate. He had been corrupted by keeping bad company and he was a lost cause. The pious name and the immoral job are meant to make you sick to your stomach. Yet, Jesus speaks kindly to Levi, “Follow me.” And with no drama, Levi gets up and follows. There is no two-week notice. Levi immediately quits his job to follow Jesus and not look back. Nothing is said about Levi’s faith, repentance, or any other emotion. Jesus speaks and Levi complies. The stress here falls on the power of our Lord’s Word.
When Christ calls, the person comes. The Shepherd knows his sheep, and they know his voice to fall behind him irresistibly. The Lord comforts and assures our faith by the effective force of his call. Yet, this call of Levi is structured to match that of Simon and Andrew in chapter one. Next to the sea, Jesus called Peter to be both a disciple and an apostle in training.
In the same manner, he summons Levi as disciple and apostle. Christ saved Levi, and he made this tax-collector part of his inner circle. Thus, in his version of this story, Matthew calls Levi by the name of Matthew. It was common for people to have two names. So, Levi’s other name is Matthew, and in all the lists of the twelve apostles, they include Matthew the tax-collector.
Those we deem to be lost causes are not beyond the power of our Lord’s gracious calling and words.
Christ is the cornerstone, and the apostles are the foundation for the church. This tax-collector is part of our foundation as members of the church. Our Lord used sinners of the worst sort to lay the bedrock footing for the gospel. Those we deem to be lost causes are not beyond the power of our Lord’s gracious calling and words.
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